Unbroken Circles
by Xeelee
Summary: 20 years have past, and now the children of Harry and Draco return to Hogwarts. Old feuds flare up, and old plans set into motion. Hogwarts will see changes it hasn't seen since the time of Harry Potter. Will the Wizarding World survive? Sequel to Change,
1. The Arrival

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

**A/N:** So I got bored and started writing again... :) It is a sequel to my previous story, "Change". I could have written a fanfic in a more classic environment, but I liked the setting of my previous fanfic, and some of the characters I created. And now I'll have some new ones :)

* * *

**Prologue**

„So it is confirmed?" the hooded figure asked into the darkness.

"Yes," the darkness answered. "Our contacts in the ministry heard rumors, that they will finally come out of their hiding. After all these years…"

"We will have revenge. They will pay. Oh yes…"  
"But we must be careful or we lose everything."

"Yes," he whispered. "I'll make the necessary arrangements. It will not be easy, but it shall be done!"

* * *

**Chapter One**

He looked across the tables below him, full with eager faces of students looking up at him. The occasional lightning bold from the thunderstorm outside sent the occasional strobe of light into the hall and highlighted them even further. Though he knew that they were really looking forward to the great feast, and not his speech; thought that sent a stab of pain through his soul. In the past years, he had worked hard to shed some of his previous character traits, especially now that he was Headmaster and had to live up to expectations such exalted positions brought with them.

The lights of thousand candles floating in air shed the Great Hall in a warm, flickering light, even the deep green and silver of Slytherin's house colours seemed warmer and friendlier. He smiled as he saw it, though he tried not to show it. He was supposed to be impartial, but seeing _his_ house winning the house cup time and again after waiting all these years still warmed his heart.

The sorting ceremony was over and the new students seated, so it was time for his welcome speech. He smoothed out a strand of his long hair and raised his voice.

"Students, new and old," Severus Snape started to speak, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" The students furiously clapped. "It's good to see so many new faces, and sad, that so many have left the school. But such is the turn of time. Hogwarts demands, and gets, the best, so be warned that the school will not tolerate slackers or laziness. We encourage you to become independent, bright young wizards, but not reckless. This school has rules and guidelines, and they will be observed, even if you might think they are stupid. Mr. Filch", he pointed at the impossibly frail looking man, who despite his age somehow managed to still be at the school, "will make sure they are observed. "The forest-"

Snape stopped suddenly as the candles started to flicker as if a strong wind was rushing at them and soon the first went out, quickly followed by others, scores by scores. As the lights went out, coolness rose from the floor that sent shivers through his body. Darkness, far darker than the mere absence of candles could ever produce crept from the corners and cracks of the walls, until, without warning, all light went out. Someone yelled "Lumos" but to no avail.

He heard a loud banging sound, as if the doors of the great hall were kicked open. As suddenly as the lights went, they slowly returned, candle by candle. The occasional flashes of light from the thunderstorm further helped to cast the Great Hall in an eerie light revealing two persons standing in the middle of the Great Hall, right between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

Before he could speak, several wands were out from teachers and pupils alike.

"Identify yourselves!" Snape shouted, his wand out as well.

The two persons stood there, unmoved, unperturbed, in long and elegant cloaks, like statutes of black marble. In a swift, floating movement, they removed their hoods and showed a teenaged girl and boy.

"Liandra and Ereb Malfoy-Potter," the girl answered him in a calm voice clear as crystal.

There was an outcry of shocked disbelief by almost the whole Hall.

The stunned silence that followed was as thick as the darkness that came before it.

* * *

The doors of the small study behind the teacher's table shut with a loud bang. Outside Snape heard the rising chatter and conversations as the students were discussing this outrage and the teachers trying to calm them down. 

"Who are you, really?" Snape snapped.

"I told you, Professor", the girl answered him levelly. "I am Liandra Malfoy-Potter, and this is my brother, Ereb. And we are here to go to school. It is a school, right?" She said mockingly.

He fought down the rising anger. The last person who brought him that close to the edge was "Potter," he hissed. He breathed sharply in and regarded the two intruders.

"If I am to believe you," he finally spoke, "and for the moment I am, what do you want here?" And he truly believed them, for their looks alone. Even though it was hard to believe at first, the resemblance was there. The girl, he realised, had a lot of Lilly Potter, most prominently the eyes and her lips. The perfectly cut face was framed by elegantly flowing midnight black hair, contrasting with the full red of her lips. The demeanour was clearly Malfoy, though. The boy seemed to have more of the Malfoy line physically. He was tall, already as tall as he himself, but not lanky. Beneath the expensive clothing he must hide a muscular body, he surmised. The face, as beautiful as his sister's, with the high cheekbones and strong jaw line, was set in a mane of white-blond hair. The green-grey eyes observed his every move. Together with the way he moved - like a predator following its prey – made for a very disturbing presence. Children of same sex couples was something that happened occasionally. All it took was a willing surrogate mother and some magic to achieve. Though he never thought the Potter and Malfoy lines would cross in that combination. The Daily Prophet would go insane over this.

"My sister told you," the boy opened his mouth, and the voice was so deep as if it came from some rocks grinding at each other, "we are here to attend this school for the final two years. We are to get O.W.L.s and then move on to N.E.W.T.s."

"Preposterous," Snape said immediately. "You can't come rushing in here and demand to enter this school, and expect to be welcomed here. You don't have the knowledge-"

"You will find that we do have the necessary skills," Liandra interrupted him haughtily. "But our fathers told us that you might be somewhat resistant to this. I am sure Uncle Lucius will not be delighted to hear your decision."

Snape stopped. Lucius… Despite all his past, the snivelling Malfoy had managed to regain his former power with startling speed and even built further on it. Controlling both the Potter and Malfoy holdings certainly helped him, especially with 'Potter' fame now behind him. And now he was far more powerful than ever. And as his own career somewhat depended on the trust of the school governors, he ground his teeth, but tried to smile instead. "Very well," his voice was vitriolic. "You may have your wish. But you must be tested first, and tested you will be. You will now be sorted into your house, and meet me tomorrow in my office after I have discussed it with the Ministry. Understood?"

"Of course," the twins said in unison.

"And what about your fathers?" He asked them, finally giving in to his curiosity. "Where are they? They might need to sign things." Not necessarily, he thought, but they didn't know that, did they?

"They are around, I can assure you," Liandra fluted. "And if there is anything to sign, Uncle Lucius will be more than pleased to sign them for them instead."

"I would rather meet them personally. Mr. Potter and Malfoy have been missing for almost 20 years now, and suddenly their children pop up?"

"I think you should ask them yourself, when and if you should meet them. But they're entrusting this school – and you – with our safety; that counts for something."

* * *

After they left the study again, they were sorted. The crowd of students fell silent and watched. The faces showed a wide variety of emotions, ranging from curious interest to pure hatred, especially from the Slytherin side. Their parents didn't seem to have left a good impression with some of their parents it seemed. 

Liandra was first. The sorting hat was placed on her head and she heard him mutter.

"Difficult, really," he whispered. "Just like young Harry, so many possibilities…" The hat squirmed above her head. "Gryffindor or Slytherin; it's both there." It murmured some more, but she didn't understand, when it finally shouted "Gryffindor!"

The hat was lifted, and she stood up. The Gryffindor's reaction was mixed. A great many clapped and shouted; the name Potter still had power and repute. It was the Malfoy part that lead to some grim looking students, most prominently a small group of red-headed students. As she stepped down towards the Gryffindor table, the hat shouted another "Gryffindor" behind her. At least her brother and she weren't separated. If she had to endure this, better not alone. She waited for him to come down, and together they sat down at the table, looking into the faces of curious Gryffindors.

Interesting times lay ahead, just as Harry had promised.


	2. Settling In

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

**A/N:** I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get a new chapter out. But I had some interesting times... My graduating thesis at university, last exams and my first job. Working really eats into your free time :D ´But finally, I got a few hours to write again. Short, but I hope it is enjoyable. I hope to get more time to write from no on...

**Chapter Two**

After their sorting, Liandra and Ereb followed the crowd to the Gryffindor rooms. Despite her demeanour, Liandra really liked it. This whole experience was something new, and it felt curious to walk the path her fathers had walked so many years ago and told so many stories of (though the Great Hall wasn't nearly as tall as their fathers had made it to be).

When they reached the Tower, they were placed in their respective rooms, separated by gender, of course. The girls in her room, all girls around her age, eyed her with interest but they kept some distance to her. A little friendly chit-chat, but she didn't really want to have a full-blown conversation just yet and the events of the evening, especially Ereb's and her appearance, were still a bit too much for them.

When she finally had stuffed her belongings into the much too small storage she walked down into the common room. A fire roared in the fireplace and cast the room in a gentle golden light. Of course Harry had told many stories about it, but for the first time she felt it – she was part of it. Ereb waited for her in a corner at the back of the room, looking all grim and hard-faced. He wasn't liking it at all, that was for sure.

"Have you settled in?" she asked him carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"Oh Christ, Ereb," she sighed, "can't you, just once, not be the spoilt brat? Just this time?" Despite his good looks, his powerful body and his predatory appearance, he was, indeed, spoilt rotten and an incredible pain in the ass if he set his mind to being stubborn.

"Oh _sure_," his scathing voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. "Have you looked at that place? At all?" His arms made a big, sweeping movement. "It's a bloody dump! I mean, they certainly haven't had a redecoration in like ages! Dust, dirt, and not even a bloody Telly!"

"Oh fuck, Ereb," she looked at him with that mixture of disgust and a patience that was wearing thin. "I know you didn't really want this, and I know we are used to a bit different location, but we just have to stay here until these exams and we're gone. Fathers really wanted us to do this…"  
"Oh shit, Li," he spat, "after all they've done to us, after all we've been through, you _still_ look up to them? You can't be serious! Don't you remember Romania? That year in Sibiria? Or this utter disaster in this place I can't even pronounce?"

"And all the last years? When we finally settled down? Doesn't that count? I know you, and you liked it in London."

"Maybe, yeah," he grudgingly admitted. "It wasn't all bad, but still…"

"Oh shut it," she finally sighed. "I know you'd prefer the Town House, but just do it for me, would you? Unlike you, I don't hate my magical abilities and would like to make the best of it. Just give it a chance, for _me_?" She blinked at him with her patented 'Innocent little girly'-look.

After long seconds, it was Ereb who sighed. "Ok, I'll give in." A crooked smile crept on his face. "Then again, when haven't I given in to your demands?" He got his arms around her and hugged her slightly.

Liandra looked at him then turned her head around. A group of Gryffindors stood near the fireplace and chattered amongst themselves while casting furtive glances at herself and her brother.

"Let's mingle with the locals, shall we?" She asked amiably.

"Oh well," Ereb sighed, and his head dropped slightly. "If you wish…"

* * *

"I fucking don't believe it," Gerald Weasley spat and looked out into the darkness of the lake before he turned around to face his most trusted friends sitting around the fireplace. His red hair flowed all around his pale face and his eyes reflected the fire. "That the Headmaster let them in! He, of all people!" And, of course, he was afraid that these Potters would ally themselves with the Gryffindor-Weasleys, but he didn't mention it. _That_ went without saying. The rivalry between the Weasley clans after the clash of interests over Percy Weasley was, after all, almost legendary. 

"I don't think he had a chance, did he?" Alison St. Claire chimed in. She sat in a comfortable recliner and her intense brown eyes peered at him from under her red-brown mane. "Snape doesn't have the stomach to go against the Arch Traitor Malfoy himself."

"Would you?" Paul Goyle asked her. The large hulk of a boy sat on a stool near the roaring fire. His thick brows and heavyset looks belied the formidable intellect inside that thick skull of his. "If I may remind you, my family has paid dearly, and we're lucky to have survived the Fall."

"Well," Alison pondered, "I remember Uncle August did. He tried to go against him over some shit it in the Ministry. The last thing one has heard of him was that he's cleaning dragon cages somewhere in Romania…" She paused for a second. "Still, these Potter brats won't suddenly go away, will they?"

"No," Gerald answered her, "no, they won't. The worst part is that they're the bastards of Potter _and_ Malfoy – and in Gryffindor, to boot. Not that they'll get all uppity."

"Unless…" Alison had a feral grin on her face.

"Unless what?" Gerald asked her irritably. He liked her, mostly. But sometimes he hated it when she got all superior on him.

"Unless they fail the test Snape will put them through. Knowing him, it won't be easy. So, if we…help a bit, we won't have to put up with them at all. Problem solved."

Gerald had to chuckle. "Well, that thought has merit. What do you have in mind?"

"I thought, that…"

* * *

"Severus," the Professor asked politely, "do you think that's wise?" 

"What should I do? I can't seriously cross wands with Lucius again! The last time was bad enough, and I doubt it'll be easier now it's about his nephews."

"Sure," Mechthild Ranenbrecht answered. The Potions Mistress was also head of Slytherin and currently not very pleased. Her cold, blue eyes stared out of the window of the Headmaster's tower. "Doesn't mean I've got to like it."

"Well," Severus smiled, "they'll have to get through the tests first. And I doubt that these children will pass that test without one shred of credible education in their bones."

"But their fathers-" She began to speak.

Snape erupted from his chair. "That blasted bastards! They couldn't get lost in the past. They couldn't get themselves killed. No!" He shouted. "No, no. They survived, and even got children for Merlin's sake! And I have to swallow it and be all nice about it or Lucius tears me a new one."

"Which he won't, if they fail these tests. No one could possibly blame you, after all. All will have observed these tests."

"I sure hope so. If they should pass, they'll ruin your winning streak in the house cup. _I_ know how that feels."

* * *

The next morning, Snape, the professors and the two Malfoy-Potters and a flock of watchers waited outside of the Great Hall, which has been reconfigured to suit the oncoming tests. 

The huge doors slowly opened and all stepped through.


	3. A Challenge

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling 

A/N: Yet another chapter... Sorry for the long time, but I don't have all the time a student has anymore :) I hope I found all errors or mistakes, but any you find are mine :)

**Chapter Three**

„Welcome," Snape gravely said as the large group of people came to a stop in front of massive wall of midnight-black marble where normally the large house tables would have been. The professors and observers turned towards the two siblings. A smug expression crept on Snape's face. "You will find the tasks to be very well suited to your, ah, exquisite abilities." The smugness could almost be cut with a knife. Liandra wanted to strangle him on the spot. "You may step through that barrier. It will let you through, but nothing else. We will observe from here and be your judges. It will be dangerous," his eyes twinkled at that, "but your life is almost completely assured. You still have the chance to simply walk away, safe and secure. No one will stop you." He waited for almost a minute, but as neither of them answered, he seemed disappointed.

We are as ready as can be, Headmaster," Liandra said with a cheerful smile on her lips.

"Then off you go," Snape said and waved his hand at the wall.

Liandra and her brother slowly stepped forward, stopping imperceptible as their faces touched the wall; then, with one swift movement, she stepped through.

All that remained was a slow ripple on the wall's surface.

* * *

In a flash of light, Liandra suddenly found herself in a room not unlike any other classrooms in the castle. She looked around, but couldn't find her brother. _Damn,_ she thought. _Must have separated us to test us individually. I hope Ereb doesn't botch it. _She tried to touch him with her mind, but it seemed the room was cut off rather perfectly from the universe around her. _Can't be helped, then. _

She stepped closer to the stone table at the back of the room. It was crammed with vials, glasses, pots, and a wide range of obscure magical components. A simple piece of parchment lay at the front of the table.

"Please be so kind to brew a Draught of Peace," it read. "When finished, put it into the shelf to your right for inspection."

Liandra moaned. This would take more time than she had thought it would. She didn't waste any time and got to work.

* * *

Sweat dropped from her forehead but she finally had the potion in a little glass vial. She had no feeling for time anymore, but an eternity must have passed in the room. Chaos raged around the table, dozen of vials on the floor, unidentified liquids in pots, and litter everywhere. For some strange reasons, many of the ingredients were on the verge of usability or barely present in any useable amount. Once, an ingredient even exploded in her face for no apparent reason. She just shook it off as her nerves, though. But she made it.

She crossed the room and put the vial on the shelf where it promptly vanished.

Minutes passed without any reaction. Then, quite unceremoniously, a parchment flashed into existence with a puff of smoke. It simply read "Passed".

The room dissolved into a fine, grey mist and solidified into another equally nondescript school room. Another parchment waited for her. "Please be so kind to change the colour of any object of your liking within the room. We will observe."

"Oh my," she sighed. "This will take a while..:"

* * *

"I know why I hate it," Ereb muttered under his breath. That potion was bad enough. He always hated that. He nearly botched it completely, too, when it exploded twice in a row. The last attempt used up the last bits of that slimy ingredient he couldn't quite name. That damnable colour-changing spell nearly blew the room apart as the object he had intended to be changed reacted in a most unpleasant way. He still had some glass shrapnel firmly imbedded into his cloak. But he did manage the task and had a book now a glaring red in his hand. He waited impatiently in the room, and was about to shout when a voice boomed a simple "Passed!" from up above. The room vanished yet again, and was replaced by another classroom. Moaning, he walked to the note waiting for him on the table in the centre of it.

* * *

He had lost count after another classroom vanished around him. He must have been through almost any conceivable topic and test he could possibly think of. And he did rather well, or so he thought. He only had botched that Arithmancy test. But that was to be expected. _If anything is worse than Potions, it was that._ And the number of strange events had continued. He couldn't connect them. How could he, given the diverse tests? But he was about to start to think someone really had been after him. His face had several cuts of bits and pieces that had exploded when they should not, his cloak was singed in several spots from fires that erupted for now reasons whatsoever. He was seriously pissed.

He was expecting a new infuriating class room. But instead, he found himself standing just in front of a huge hedge; a hedge of a rather ominous black-green that seemed to suck in every bit of light around him. He wasn't sure what to do with it.

He whipped around, when he heard a plop behind him, wand ready, but quickly dropped it when he saw his sister. They rushed towards each other and he grappled her in a bear-hug.

"You look shit, brother," she said mockingly.

"You, too," he answered. And not jockingly. Her face was full with cuts and dried blood, her clothes just as singed as his, and her expression just as pissed as his. "Interesting times, too?" he asked her.

"Yes," she answered. "As if someone cursed that damnable exams."

"It seems that way. But Snape wouldn't do it. He hasn't the spine for it."

"Well," he murmured, "You may have a point. But given the test selection, you could very well be wrong."

„And what now?" Ereb pointed at the hedge. „Do you have-„

Before he could finish the sentence, a booming voice echoed from high above them. "This represents your last and final test. In essence, it is just a labyrinth. Your task is to get to its centre. It really is that simple." Ereb could not help but register a almost graspable smugness in the voice. _Must be Snape..._

The hedge in front of them started to twist and move. Two holes appeared, small at first but growing steadily larger until they were finally larger than each of them was.

"Seems we gonna have to choose," Ereb said.

"Yupp," Liandra answered. "I guess I'll take the left one. Cool?"

"Cool," he answered her. Given the tests so far, he had no doubts that both possibilities were full of ugly surprises. He hugged his sister a last time and then approached the right hole. He just saw his sister vanish into her entrance to the labyrinth with a smile on her mangled face.

He took one final breath and then stepped into the entrance himself. Before him he could see a long, dark-green corridor stretching out miles – or so it seemed. A thick white mist covered the ground up to his knees. A sound behind him made him turn around and he just had time to see the entrance closing itself slowly, cutting him off any possibility of retreat. Suddenly, it got a lot darker; but if they thought darkness did frighten him, they were mistaken. His famous heritage assured him advantages beyond belief of normal wizards - and a perfect sight in absolute darkness was one of them.

He purposefully strode ahead, the mist whirling and twisting behind him. He saw a crossing slowly coming out of the darkness ahead of him. But before he could decide whether to go left or right, he heard a whooshing sound to his left. Instinctively, he threw himself on the ground. The stunning bolt missed his bulk by a hair's breadth. As he touched ground, his right hand shot up, his wand lining up with the general direction of the attack and shouted "Bombarda!". A large portion of the hedge suddenly disintegrated into tiny wooden shrapnel. A satisfyingly shrill shriek assured him that he did score. Carefully getting himself up again, he looked around. It seemed that he had taken out several cubic metres of former hedge. He looked into the debris field, but could not see anything besides torn wood and foliage. Before he could get any nearer, the hedge started to grow quickly, repairing the destroyed part of it. He waited for a bit, then decided to go left. He heard a rustling sound around him but he could not pinpoint it. Whoever or whatever had attacked him must have been still out there.

* * *

"Lumos!" Liandra's voice cried out, a cone of light hitting the Death's Snarl trying to bind her and take her down into the cold embrace of earth. The light hit the plant, which recoiled as if hit by a brick, then withered away from here.

"I really hate-" A muffled explosion stopped her in her tracks. "Ereb," she muttered. He has always been the trigger-happy one in the family. I _just hope he hasn't killed anyone._ _That wouldn't go down well with the locals_. She just could imagine the headline. "Ereb Malfoy-Potter a Murderer. Killing First-Year student because of a prank." _Calm down, Liandra. He isn't that stupid – I hope._

She carefully walked on, now seeing a small clearing ahead of her. A hip-high stone pedestal stood at its centre, two golden goblets sitting on it. A dozen corridors left the round walls of the clearing to all sides. She approached the pedestal. Ancient runes were carved into the rim of it.

"Be ye aware of the path. It may lead ye into freedom or despair. Choose wisely."

"Great," she muttered. "A trick question. Just what I need…"

She looked at the goblets. Both were identical down to the last gem imbedded into their rim. Both contained clear liquids. She lowered her head and tried to smell something special; but both had no perceivable smell whatsoever. She took a small twig from the ground around the hedge and dipped it into the first goblet. Nothing happened. She waited for several seconds looking at the twig, but it did not change form, burn, smoulder, or corrode. It remained a twig. She dipped a second twig into the other goblet and got the same reaction – none whatsoever. One of the goblets would most likely show her the corridor she should be taking next, the other…would not. She was not basing that on her own guesswork alone, so she took some stones and other detritus that was lying on the ground around here. She took one of the stones and with one swift movement threw it into one of the corridors. The stone flew threw the entrance. She was not surprised when a lightning bolt struck the stone. She just had time to duck under the incoming pieces of the stone.

As she got up from the ground again after she had tested the last corridor – this one with fire – she was finally sure that not only would one goblet show her the way, but also let her get through said corridor. She doubted – hoped really – that she wouldn't be killed even if she was going through one of them, but given the test so far, she wasn't going to entrust her life to that.

Back to the goblets it is, then. She performed some additional tests on both of them. All without any major success. The obscure revelation spell Harry had taught her only got a nice little puff of white smoke from both of them. She was really angry by now. Not only because of the task as such, but because she knew she shouldn't be needing so long! If only- Then it struck her. _Oh, I've been so stupid!_ She flicked her wand in a very complicated pattern, ending it in a nice wave motion. At first, nothing happened. Then, the left goblet began to change colour to a very faint green. That must be it!

She took it and swallowed one big gulp. It did not taste at all, but slightly burned on her tongue. Her head twisted around as suddenly light flashes appeared in her vision. She tried to look around calmly, but it was only a rocky, unsteady movement. _But – there!_ One of the corridors glowed a light green, beckoning her; calling her. As if pulled by a string, she stumbled towards it. She held her breath as she crossed from the clearing into the corridor, but nothing happened. She stumbled on, half falling, grasping at twigs from the hedge.

* * *

Ereb was not too thrilled about this test. He was more bruised than before, covered in mud and decorated with rubble, dirt and an assortment of twigs and leafs. His clothes torn apart. That mud diving two tasks back still would mean someone would have to suffer for it. And right now, it didn't matter who. That a part of the hedge did collapse on him afterwards hadn't lifted his spirit, either. In short, he was about to explode.

Ahead of him, he saw the hedge corridor open up slowly. As he got closer, it looked like a dome of sorts, made of the hedge. He stopped as he was through the corridor. The domed place did not look like it was dangerous. Actually, he couldn't see anything in it at all, just a corridor leaving the dome at its other side almost one hundred metres ahead of him. He took another step; but as his left foot touched the ground, he felt a deep rumble going through the ground. It grew stronger, louder until the ground started shaking. Parts of the ground began to tumble and fall down into somewhere. Great bursts of heat flowed forward, turning his face into a sweaty mud puddle. He jumped back and landed on his back. Pillars stared rising out of the ground, more and more cracks showed in the ground. When it finally seemed to have stopped, he stood up again and assessed the situation.

About thirty pillars of various sizes rose out of the dome's floor. Around them, several pits have formed. One seemed to contain lava, another a white, undetermined liquid, yet another simple stakes. It was, for all intents and purposes, a jump puzzle.

Taking out his wand, he tried the easy way: levitating. It did not work; nor any other spell that would have made him hover, fly, or make jumping around easier.

_For Merlin's Sake!_ _It should be a test of magical prowess, not some blasted sports event!_ But here he was, still. He checked for the closest small pillar. It was just half a metre inside on of the lava pits and about hip-high. He jumped – and almost stumbled into the pit below as he tried to steady himself again. He looked around for the next one to take. This time, he got the landing part better and didn't fall down into the pit. After a few more, he was almost in the middle of the great dome and already fairly high, at least three meters. The next pillar was a good jump away. He should be able to make it – or at least he hoped so. He checked the distance, concentrated on a point and then leapt into a powerful jump. He was almost half-way through it, and he started to relax as he seemed to have executed it quite well, when he thought to have heard some whisper to his left. He whipped his head around, only to see a red bolt of light race towards his position. In a cat-like movement, he tried to turn his body out of harms way.

Instants later, the bold slashed past him. He actually smiled, before he realised that he would not be able to make the landing anymore. He tumbled towards the bubbling lava below, already feeling the heat on his face. He had no time left to do something consciously.

A few inches above the lava, something happened. He did not will it, really, but his abilities often had a will of their own. It was like an instinct. Blackness engulfed him, wrapping itself around him like a second skin. Shadowy claws materialised from his fingers, methodically slamming deep inside the rocky pillar.

He stopped merely inches above the lava. Quickly, he climbed up again and let go of the shadows. Out of breath, he looked around, but he could not make anything out apart from pillars, some pits and the dome itself. _But someone must have done this!_

Shaking his head in frustration, he was about to continue his path along those pillars, when he heard- or thought he heard- a sound far to his left just as his feet left the pillar. Without thinking, his wand whipped up in mid-flight, he shouted "Reducto!" and a bolt of magical energy flashed forward. He heard some stone explodeand if he was not mistaken, a human cry of pain. With a satisfying smile on his face, he landed on the next pillar. He looked into the direction where he shot at, but even with his heightened senses, he could not see anything. Shrugging, he continued his path.

* * *

Liandra looked like the result of a brief, but passionate encounter between a hedge and a wizard as she stepped through a small breach in a hedge into a clearing. She cursed. Or, more precisely, continued cursing as she had for the last dozen of minutes. Whoever had dreamt up those tests is an evil, sadistic bastard; which fit the description of Professor Snape perfectly. She knew it was impossible, but somehow, somewhere, he will pay for all of this. She just did not know what she would do to him – but then again, creativity ran in the family.

She heard a rustling in the hedge to her right and had her wand out in no time, only to see her brother emerge from the wilderness.

"You still look like shit," she dryly commented - and it was a far more accurate statement than before. Besides indescribable parts of obscure plants, he was peppered in a fine crust of dust. His robes were more a fishnet than robe and most of his torso was now only covered by whimsical excuses of a fabric revealing the muscular body beneath it.

"You're in no position to comment on my looks, dear," he retorted with almost a smile on his face - or at least she thought it was a smile below all the dirt and mud.

" But by Merlin, I'll blast the next one to look at me funny into next year. I am so bloody tired," he went on. "I may be paranoid, but there were some people out there and tried to stop me. If not for my, um, powers, I'd be roasted by now."  
"You had those too?" Liandra's forehead wrinkled in thoughts, which also caused small dust clouds of dried mud to fall down. "Part of the 'normal' test?"

"No, I doubt it," her brother answered. "Doesn't make sense, given the tests. As well as all those botched potions and stuff. But then again, it is Snape we're talking about. You know the stories as well as I do."

"We will have to investigate this. I don't take this lightly."

"Yupp," he nodded. "If I find them, they'll be in hell of a lot trouble. And I know just _the_ It-location in Siberia for them."

"The one from your twelfth birthday?" She pondered on it for a second, before nodding approvingly. "Yes, I think it would be perfect. But first, we must get out of here, before they start flinging dragons or some other shit."  
"But wh-" Ereb was about to say, when her head suddenly began to whirl around and she was about to puke her guts out. A second later, it was over, and she stood again in front of the large black marble wall, the teachers gathered around them.

"I see you have enjoyed yourself," a smirking Snape commented their condition. Barely controlled rage burned through Liandra's mental shields, and she felt the beast inside her twitch.

"Did we pass?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"If it were only me, no," Snape answered her and he barely hid his anger. "But there are others, from the ministry and staff, who think you possess potential, even though for some reasons part of the labyrinth test were obscured from us. For the time being, I shall honour that foolish decision. I think time will prove me right eventually, though, at which point I will sadly have to let you go." His face grew hard again. "Now get out of my sight and try to at least look like proper wizards."

* * *

Ereb and Liandra stepped out of the great hall and what seemed the whole school waited there. Curious looks on many faces, and even more students snickered at their state. Some girls - and few boys it seemed - where thrilled at the amount of skin her brother showed. He had always been quite popular, despite his inner, bratty, self. A Gryffindor she never met stepped forward and asked her, "did you pass?" She simply nodded. Most of the Gryffindors cheered, for reasons beyond here. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped politely and the Slytherins, obviously, sulked.

She felt a nudge and was about to tear the unfortunate someone's skin off, when she saw it was her brother. He pointed his face almost imperceptibly at a group of Slytherins at the back. They seemed to be a bit out of breath, a little bit dirty, and most importantly, seemed to have some problems holding their arms; at least that's what she made out of the pained faces. Liandra simply nodded.

Together, she and her brother walked towards the Gryffindor tower. It seems a social gathering of epic proportions could not be avoided. Poor Ereb, she snickered.


	4. A New Morning

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling **

**A/N: It is alive... Managed to write another chapter, though a bit short; just felt a good point to break chapter there ;) Blame the job. But I try to get more free time for more chapters... All errors are, of course, mine. But if you'd like to tell me (or beta :P), please tell me. **

**Chapter Four**

„Those slimy bastards," Paul Goyle cursed as he sat down, only slightly wincing, on the couch in the Slytherin Common Room. He still held his left arm a bit stiffer than normal and tried not to move it too much. "They nearly killed us! Who in his right mind bloody shoots without seeing?"

"Normally, that would apply to us," Alison St. Claire answered his question. "Most probably in the back while running. But it is as it is," she drew a face, "they made it trough the test, alive and well, despite our best efforts to stop them."  
"And now," Goyle whined, "we can't just go on and shoot them in the face. Not before the test and certainly not now, as proper students."

"We are Slytherins," Alison smiled. "When brute force doesn't work, cunning and wicked planning works pretty well, too. We must do our best to make their stay living hell; without stepping into the light ourselves."

"You make it sound easy," Gerald Weasley piped in, standing in front of the large window looking out into the depths of the lake.

"What other option do we have?" Alison asked back. "We already established that we cannot do anything too direct. Either we make them leave out of their own free will, or we get Snape to throw them out, or," she paused for a second, "as we all know, accidents _do_ happen."

"You don't say-" Paul looked shocked.

"I have merely stated possibilities. Not plans. But if one of them, say, suddenly fell down a staircase who is to blame us?"

"You may have a point, Alison," Gerald coolly commented from his vantage point. His voice was flat and void of any emotion; which in itself was a sign of the boiling emotions _inside_ him. "But we must really be discrete about it. The way these maniacs reacted doesn't inspire much faith in me that it would be wise to get them really angry. It could get ugly."  
"It could," Alison smiled thinly. "But if all else fails, that's what it ultimately leads to, isn't it?"

"If all other options fail, yes," Gerald said, looking each in the eyes. "But would you risk everything you, your family, stands for just to get them? I would," he said, turning around.

* * *

The world must have exploded while she has been asleep; or it was just the hangover from the illegally acquired drinks some older Gryffindors seemed to have scrounged up for the little party their successful test has triggered. To be sure, Liandra had to open her eyes, really. 

Heavily blinking she slowly opened them and tried to prop herself up on her elbows. Moaning, she weathered a wave of intense pain shooting through her brain. Hangover, she finally concluded as blurry pieces of furniture, ancient, almost decrepit furniture came into her view. _Still in Hogwarts, then…_

Remembering a useful spell she picked up on the family travels, she grabbed her wand and flicked it in a rapid staccato movement. As if on clue, her sight steadied, the pain lessened and that funny feeling in her stomach subsided. _Praise Merlin for Anti-Hangover spells…_

Obviously, her roommates – a thing she really, really hated about this whole thing - have already left. She clambered out of her bed, dragged herself to the bathroom and finally threw some clothes over her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she concluded that it'll just have to do for today.

Stepping down the staircase to the common room, she could still see debris of the party. Even the house-elves hadn't had time to clean everything up. Amid the party debris, a handful of Gryffindors were sitting or standing around the room. They smiled at her and one or two waived. She waived back, smiling a bit unsure. _At least I'm not the outcast anymore. Better than nothing_. Though she hardly remembered a thing from the party; some snippets of conversation here and there, lots of laughing, a few botched party gags and several pranks; but apart from that, the last night was a very clean slate.

"Morning sunshine," her brother greeted her from behind. She could just see the barely contained schadenfreude in his face as she turned around. He seemed to take an unhealthy amount of fun out of her hangover. But then again, he would pay for it, as always. _He never seems to learn…_ "Enjoyed the party?"

"I did," she answered, smiling. Images flashed through her mind. She remembered, in a very blurred way, of course, talking with some girl or the other about boys it seemed – at least she giggled a lot. But she also saw somewhere in that image her brother standing back and looking reserved and moody and generally not having fun. "You should try it once," she scolded him. "For once, please? Having fun in public is not really punishable by death, you know?"

"I did have fun." She looked him thoroughly in the eyes. "Ok, sort of," Ereb quickly said. "You know me; I don't like other people that much. Why is it that everyone tries to make me have fun?"  
"Because I happen to like you, stupid," she pouted. "Anyway, I think we should be off, our first, real day at school. Are you as excited as I am?"

"I can hardly await it," Ereb didn't even try to hide his boredom. Liandra knew, that if left alone, he would have spent some time with his beloved martial arts stuff, often jumping around rooms like a cat on stims, something she never really understood. Granted, she wasn't unathletic or lazy, and spent her time in the gym, but her brother took it to a new level. If he wasn't in a gym, he would spent hours upon hours simply sitting somewhere and looking at the landscape, lost in his own, mysterious thoughts. He was no total loner, she corrected herself. As his bratty side showed, he could be a normal teenager, yammering about teenage problems or watching TV, hanging out with friends; but more often than not, he was that loner and it hurt her, because she knew he could be a funny, attentive, loving guy and she wanted him to have fun, meet friends, do adventurous things, do all that a normal teenager was supposed to do; but for the time being, she hadn't found something that would snap him out of his own world. Smiling – a bit sadly some might have said – she walked side by side with her brother out of the common room.

* * *

The corridors were still a bit crowed, students moving around in an unpredictable way, each homing in on the classroom they were supposed to be. Ereb followed Liandra. He hadn't yet bothered to get all the details of Hogwarts into his brain, so he was still a bit lost in the ancient castle. Liandra, though, had spent hours pouring over books about Hogwarts and knew the layout to a T – or as close as could be. 

He was no morning person, far from it. Which was one reason he bumped headlong into his sister as she suddenly stopped.

"What the-" he exclaimed.

"There they are," Liandra whispered and pointed her chin to the right. A group of Slytherins, some looking a bit bruised, some with stiff looking arms, made their way through the students. Her eyes exploded in an almost fiery intensity and heard her breathing heavily through the teeth. He tried to stop her, but she was faster – which is to say, more awake – than him. He knew from painful experience, that his sister was lacking some very essential anger control mechanisms in the morning. He attributed it at first to her being a girl and all that, but over the years, he concluded that it just was _her_.

Liandra paved her way through the students with perfect accuracy until she finally stopped and stood right in the path of the Slytherins.

"Hello," she said with a thin-lipped smile. "I guess you all fell down some stairs, right?"

"What do you mean?" a haughty-looking girl snapped at her.

"Oh, nothing," Liandra cooed. "I just happened to notice that you and your gang seem to be a bit, well, hurt. And that we had some very untoward, shall we say, incidents during our test. Certain someones crossed our way and were a bit hurt in the process."

"And you accuse us?" the red head snapped. "You slimy-"

"I just notice coincidences." Liandra smiled very coolly and leaned toward the girl. "But rest assured, should you and your lot try anything funny with us again, they won't find enough of you to put in a matchbox to send to your parents when the dust has settled."

"You- you," she stammered. "Gerald, did you hear? They threatened us!"

"I did, Alison," he said and positioned him just next to Alison. The smile on his face made Ereb feel a bit cold. It was as if Liandra did something he actually _liked_. It seriously puzzled him. "I did indeed. What would Professor Snape say, I wonder?"  
"Threatened is such a harsh word, really," Liandra smiled. "I just warned you that in the very unlikely event that it was you responsible for our problems and that you seek to further hurt us, some bad things might just happen to you. Without, of course, any direct actions by me or my brother."

"Whatever, bitch," Alison snapped, nostrils flaring. "We'll tell Snape and see what happens. No one threatens a St. Claire!" She shouldered her way past Liandra and stormed away.  
"Marvellous," Ereb commented dryly as the group of Slytherins had shot past. "Just marvellous. I mean, you just _had_ to be so direct, did you?"

"You know me," she apologetically smiled and breathed deeply. "I just had to. But anyway, let's go to class."


	5. Duels

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling**

A/N: Ok, so it's been an awfully long time since any update... I was a bad cookie. But I just had the feeling again to write... Still have the ideas in my head ;) And before anyone mentions it, it is not beta-ed, need to find one ;) Hopefully it is still readable...

* * *

Chapter 5

_You can't blame them for being slow to sneak_, Ereb mused bitterly.

Class, as it turned out, lasted only for about 20 minutes for them and now he sat next to his sister in the Headmaster's office while Snape prattled away in front of them. Ereb managed to keep up the appearance of rapt attention while his thoughts went to happier places. His sister, unfortunately, was so riled up he was afraid she would explode soon. Another stream of verbal abuse unfortunately snapped him out of his bliss.

"-this asinine behaviour is completely unacceptable in this institution!" Snape bellowed, each syllable a whiplash of anger. He glared at them as if trying to burn them away where they sat. "If it were up to me, you'd be on the next train out of here!"

But it wasn't up to him, Ereb hid a chuckle. Whatever his faults, uncle Lucius still seemed to hold a lot of clout, and not even Snape could manoeuvre easily around him. For now, at least...

"-hear of any other incident, it will have dire consequences. And now out of here!" He seemed to have missed another diatrite while in thoughts. Not too bad, he smiled.

When they were out of the Headmaster's tower, Liandra finally blew. He was proud of her for managing to keep the lid on for so long. "I will rip her bloody throat out and make my happy dance on her bloody grave!"She growled. "Detention! This slimy bitch will pay for it!"

"Breathe, Li," he said with a sigh, "just relax. We're happy it's just detention, you know? Snape didn't just miss to kick our sorry asses out of here because he likes us so much."

She threw him a furious glare, but then she managed to get a grip again. "But I cannot promise anything if I meet the bitch again!"

"Just don't do anything...traceable, right?" Ereb chuckled darkly.

* * *

"The young Potter-Malfoys," Professor Rahnenbrecht said slyly as Ereb and Liandra entered her grotto-like office. She even added a dash of disgust to it. When neither he nor Liandra took the bait, she sighed almost imperceptibly and sat down in her monumental chair. A chair which would have been more at ease in a palace than in a teacher's room, but given the rest of the decoration, no one had seemed to mention to the Professor her lack of royal blood.

"Detention, hm?" she smiled. "Well, I always thought that the cabinets down in the dung- eh in the cellar need a bit of cleaning. You will meet me after classes tomorrow here, and you will make those cabinets shine as if they're new. Maybe by cleaning that dirt, you will learn to keep your thoughts clean, as well. Can't have students threatening other students publically! And of you go," she shooed them out of her office without any further discussion.

"Cleaning..." Liandra spat. "I really should have blasted that bitch St. Claire then and there. At least it would have been worth that!"

* * *

The rest of the school day went by rather anticlimactic, from a simple academic point of view. The gossip, on the other hand... He would have to talk to his fathers in the future. They never seemed to have prepared them for the whole amount of drama that went on at a school. He knew his sister chastised him for his preference of solitude sometimes, but when the alternative was this...

The Slytherins were obviously taking a lot of enjoyment out of their meeting with Snape (and deep down were hoping for some horrible things to do in detention). Most of their Gryffindors were giving what little moral support they could. Worst of all, from a sister-close-to-killing-spree point of view, was the sneering smile on Alison St. Claires face every time she saw them. At least once he had to physically restrain her from cursing her into next week.

It was after an excruciatingly boring class of History of Magic that the day turned for something remotely to the better. Professor Ragdanovich came rushing to them. He had seen him on their first day from afar, but now, as he came rushing closer, his age showed. But despite the grey hairs, the slightly stilted gait, he could still see him as the energetic, powerful man Harry and Draco had told stories about. For some reasons, he was looking forward to classes with him.

He came to a stop just in front of them, slightly catching his breath. "What a pleasure to finally meet you," he extended his left arm and goaded them to walk with him away from the classroom door. "I took great pleasure teaching your fathers, you know?" He smiled warmly, "such talent..."

He stopped and sat down on a small bench in the corridor. "I will see what you're made of, in class tomorrow," and Ereb was sure he saw more than just a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. "But I wanted to speak to you about something else. As you may know, Hogwarts now has a duelling competition," he looked into their puzzled faces. He shook his head. "Ok, as you know now, we have. I know you're probably set to try for the Quidditch team, but I would like you to reconsider... Gryffindor needs some fresh blood." Frustration showed on his furrowed face. "Slytherin won all the last years, and with my current material..." He sighed, "they are not bad, but Slytherin just seems to have that extra urge to win. Just once, I would like..." His voice trailed off and he looked hopefully up to them almost puppy-like.

Ereb looked at his sister and she looked back, slightly nodding. "We might consider it, yes," Ereb said. He has never been too hot for Quidditch to begin with. Maybe just because his parents were so much for it, but well... His sister nodded as well.

"Brilliant!" He beamed and almost sprang up from the bench. "The Gryffindor team meets on the weekend for the kick-off this year. I hope to see you there!" He barely registered their nods as he rushed away.

"Sounds interesting, no?" he asked his sister.

"Well, I'll see," she mused. "I still like Quidditch, you know? But I will-"

"STUPEFY" a russian voice bellowed, and Li and Ereb just had time to register the magical energy rushing for them and jump out of the way, while snapping out their wands.

"Brilliant reaction time!" Ragdanovich shouted from the far end of the corridor. "We will have so much fun!" and vanished around a corner.


	6. Training session

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling**

A/N: Ooook, I took your comments to heart and wrote a "quick one". Not terribly long, but at least it's a life sign :) Got a bit carried away by real life in the loooong mean time since the last update, but I am still determined to finish this one (and my other story :D). Hope some of you readers are still out there ;)

* * *

Chapter 6

Ereb and Liandra waited outside the training room Ragdanovich had reserved for the duelling training. They stood a few steps away from a large group of Gryffindors, who seemed very eager yet also a bit insecure.

"You still think this is a good idea?" Ereb whispered. "Some of them look like they'll drop their wand just by staring at them…"

"You know this whole 'social interaction' thing we've been talking about?" She chuckled. "Getting to know people? Maybe we'll even enjoy ourselves."

He eyed the other students again. Two giggling girls were whipping their heads away, trying to hide the fact that they were ogling them. He sighed. The rest of the week had passed quickly enough, even the detention. The cleaning was not the worst of it – given the stuff they had had to do in the past together with their parents – but managing Liandra and stopping her from turning the cupboards in the slimy dungeons to smithereens had been a royal pain in his ass. When she was in this mood, it was almost impossible, but still she was his sister and all that. He absentmindedly brushed a few strands of hairs out of his face, and felt at least one girl watch his every move. Another sigh. He was not used to this kind of attention. Attacking demons and unmentionable things in the darkest corners of this world was small fry compared to this…emotional stuff.

A by then well known voice of Russian origin bellowed "Stupefy!" out of the blue and he saw the group of teenagers burst apart like a school of fish meeting a shark. Still, one was too slow and slumped to the ground.

"Well," Ragdanovich said, stepping out of the shadows at the end of the corridor, "we have to practice, I see."

A few unsure acknowledging grunts emerged from the teenagers, while he and Liandra simply nodded matter-of-factly.

Ragdanovich walked the few meters through the corridor and opened the doors. It was a well-lit room with high wood-panelled walls and a burgundy-red plush carpet. A piste dominated the room, around ten meters long and about a meter wide. This, Ereb presumed, would be their main training ground. He did not have any experience in ritualised duelling, only in real, tough-as-nails fights for survival. His parents probably wouldn't win the 'Best Parents of the Year' award but damn if it didn't prepare them for the rough world. A little duelling shouldn't be a problem, he was convinced.

"Gather around!" Ragdanovich bellowed and the group of twenty or so Gryffindors moved into a rough semi-circle around the Professor.

"Now then," he nodded, a big smile on his face, "welcome to the duelling club. You might think it is just an hour of fun, meeting friends and doing a bit of magic." He looked sternly at each of them and continued in his thick Russian accent. "It is not." He paused theatrically. "In fact it is a bloody serious business. Instead of those Quidditch wimps, you play around with the forces of magic itself, battling not only stupid Bludgers but the mind and soul of a wizard himself. It is dangerous, don't delude yourself. An error can have dire consequences but, rest assured, no one has died yet." He beamed broadly, "but now, let's gets started!"

He climbed on the piste and looked down on them. "The basics: two duellists, ten meters distance at the beginning. All curses allowed except of course the Unforgiveables, no outside help. Winner is who knocks out the opponent or makes him surrender. Falling of the piste is possible, but won't stop the duel. Each team has ten duellists plus five backups; the overall winner is the team with the last standing duellist. Simple, no?" He pointed at a five teenagers, "Piter, Eleonora, Hermione, Carl, and Fiona, up here!"

The five elegantly jumped up on the piste, looking sharp and agile. It set them apart slightly from the rest of the group, but still he was less than impressed. Looking into their eyes, he didn't see the spark in them; that what made you absolutely, irrefutably want to win – at any cost. "Those are the rest of last year's team. Sadly, every year we have to let go of the graduates, but it also means we have ten spots to fill. He walked off the piste, and randomly pointed at two Gryffindors. "You, up there! Show me what's in you!"

* * *

Ereb was watching the first duels – if you could call them that. Timidly throwing spells at each other was not exactly nerve-wracking.

"You think we make team?" he sarcastically asked Liandra.

"I am not sure," she answered with a grin, "the competition is pretty stiff."

That earned her a few hurt glances from the nameless rest of the sheep. He and his sister hadn't bothered yet to mingle with the masses. And it was a mutual thing, as they were barely approached, only watched at – carefully.

"You think-" he wanted to start when he heard his name and then another. He sighed slightly and got up and looked at his competition. A deeper sigh came out of his chest. A mouse-brown haired guy seemingly named Adam got up from the bench they were sitting on. When he looked at Ereb, he had to hide a chuckle. Unlike many others, he had a somewhat fierce glare that wanted to say 'I am a powerful wizard and will burn a whole in you', though to Ereb it was more a 'please don't kill me while I look pompous'. They got up the piste and met in the middle to shake hands. He heard his sister chuckle slightly. He knew why… He towered over the little guy by almost two feet. It was rather hilarious, he thought. But well, duel was duel, and he was in it to win it.

Taking their positions at the end of the piste, Ragdanovich boomed "Wands at the ready!"

Ereb took his wand in his hand, keeping it relaxed at his side. Adam, he saw, gripped it so hard he was afraid for his poor wand.

"GO!" Ragdanovich shouted. Almost the same instant, Ereb flicked his wand in a small but efficient movement while at the same time turning slightly to the right to be ready for incoming spells.

His stunning spell hit Adam straight in the face, who was just finished with his far simpler Stupefy spell, the remains of which fizzled to a slow death around the crumpling Adam.

"Oops?" Ereb said. Liandra smiled and the others looked somewhat stunned. Though in the eyes of last year's team he could see something like a glimmer of hope (and a bit of fear, but he guessed they thought: lucky he's on our team).

"Wonderful!" Ragdanovich boomed. "This is what we're looking for! If you manage that level of sophistication with a wand, we will turn Slytherin into a thin red paste and dance on their graves!"


End file.
